Finding My Heart and Capturing Yours
by my-latest-thoughts
Summary: AU: This is the place that she was sent to. This is the place where all the memories come back. This is the place where the past begins to fade. This is the place where she meets them. This is the place where she meets her. This is the place where Quinn Fabray is able to heal. This is the place where she is able to find her heart. This is the place where she captures another.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I own nothing. Characters belong to the one and only Ryan Murphy.

This is my first fic, so please bare with me. I've had this idea in my head for a while now and felt I had the time to get it out there.

* * *

"Welcome. Many of us are here for different reasons, but we all have the same goal. To gain control of our lives," Dr. Davis spoke to the group. Doc had us arrange our chairs in a circle. Typical. She insists that we call her by her first name, Anya, but I think Doc suits her better. I'm not about to call my psychologist by her first name. I just met her. Plus, I feel it's way unprofessional. What kind of doctor does that. You got that Ph.D. for a reason. Anyways, this is only my second time in group, and my second week at Holton Rehabilitation. Judith and Russell had me checked in when they found me on the kitchen floor trying to get a hit. I was so high that I bumped into the island and spilled coke all over the floor. It was pretty pathetic to be honest. So here I am. I want to get better. I really do! I just...I love the how I feel when I'm high. It doesn't hurt anymore. Oh shit, did Doc ask me something?

"What? I'm sorry. I kind of...zoned out." I'm not sorry.

"No worries, Quinn. Tell the group why your here, your proudest moment in life, and biggest regret," Doc said with a smile. Her teeth are really white. They're as white as cocaine. I miss my goods.

"Oh...okay. Do I need to stand or...no? Okay. Um... I'm here because I like cocaine and my parents don't like that I like that so…..yeah. Proudest moment in my life...was having Beth." Sweet, beautiful Beth. I miss my baby girl.

"Your biggest regret, Quinn." Oh, right. There's so many I don't even know where to begin. Hanging out with the Skanks? Getting addicted? Coming out to my parents and Frannie? No.

"Rachel."

"Who is Rachel, Quinn?"

"You said to name my biggest regret and I did. You didn't say to explain," Doc shakes her and frowns at this. She moves onto the next sucker. I don't get why she's upset. She didn't say to explain! And even if she did, I probably wouldn't have anyways. There's too much to explain. There's too much guilt, and regret that I just don't want to deal with right now. Or ever really.

Doc stands up, smiles, and says," good job everybody. Sharing will get easier every meeting. Group is at 10:00am next Tuesday. Have a good day, you guys." Finally. I stand to stack my chair with the others but, "Quinn? May I have a word with you?" Crap.

"What's up, Doc?" Ha! I'm funny.

She's frowning again. "Please call me Anya. We're all friends here, Quinn. Friends with the same goal in mind."

"Okay." I say nonchalantly.

"Quinn," she says with a sigh. Why are you pinching the bridge of your nose? "The whole point of group is to share thoughts and feelings. I find your lack of participation, and enthusiasm to be a downer. I'd love it if you'd open up like everyone else. No one is going to judge you." Downer. Seriously?

"Yeah. They're called my private thoughts for a reason. If I wanted to share, I would but I don't. It's not you, Doc, it's me," I say with a smile.

She sighs again, looks at me for a second, then says, "alright, Quinn, whenever you're ready," and walks away.

Alright, Quinn, whenever you're ready…. Whenever you're ready….. Whenever you're ready…. Goddamn it, Rachel.


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: I own nothing. Characters belong to the one and only Ryan Murphy.**

_Ronnie decides to turn the music up so we don't have to hear Mack and that trucker dude fucking. **'And when you're high you never Ever want to come down, YEAH!'** "Yeah," Ronnie and Sheila scream. They're so drunk I don't think they'll remember a thing tomorrow. I'm sitting on the couch with a bottle of Jack Daniel's, watching them dance around like fools. I think they were already drunk when I arrived, because damn, Sheila only plays her rock music when she's about to get shitfaced. And yup, she totally is._

_Ronnie spins around and around, tries to balance herself and yells at me, "dance, Blondie!"_

_"Yeah, Quinn! Get your fat ass up and dance!" Does Sheila know she has popcorn in her hair? Idiot. "My ass is not fat! Shut the hell up. And no, I'm not dancing with you losers."_

_"Oh come on, Quinn! You'd dance all the time in the stupid glee club but you won't-you won't dance with us," Ronnie says. She seems a little hurt by that fact. But she is drunk after all._

_"I had to dance. I didn't want to, they made me." That's not true. I actually loved dancing with the glee club. It was fun, they were fun. Fuck. I take a big gulp of my drink._

_"Bullshit," Sheila yells. "You're always saying n-no one can make you do any-anything. Admit it, Squeakers. You liked dancing!"_

_"Don't call me that," I say, gritting my teeth. "They made me dance! It was stupid." They need to let this go already._

_They plop down on the couch, Ronnie to my left, Sheila on my right._

_"Who made you dance, Blondie," Ronnie asks. "That curly head teacher?"_

_"Nah girl, it must have been that giant tree she dated. Flake? Was that his name?"_

_"His name was Finn. Any you both need to stop. Now." I take two more huge gulps. The bottle is almost empty._

_"Oh, I know! It was that little smurf! You know, the one that smelled like soap. Damn, what was-what was her name," Ronnie asks. She's about to fall of the couch if she tips to the side any further. I should just push her over. That'll get her to shut up._

_Sheila squints her eyes, "some kind of fruit." Calm down Quinn. They're too drunk, they won't get it._

_"Rachel Berry," says Mack. She shoves trucker dude out the door without a second glance. Ronnie and Sheila yell out "oh yeah," and get up to dance some more. Mack decides I'm her new chair._

_"Damn you, Mack," I say. I take one more sip of my drink and set it on the side table. "Get off me. You smell... gross." I try to push her off me but damn maybe she has the fat ass._

_"Awwww," she says holding my face. "Does wittle Quinn not wanna talk about her wittle girlfriend? Hmmmm?" She's mocking me now and I hate it. I try to glare at her but apparently it's not working because she's full on laughing now with her head tipped back. That's when I shove her on her ass, and leave._

_It's mid-September so it's not too chilly out for it being eight at night. I can't believe the Skanks brought Rachel up. Those bitches. I need something to take these feelings away. Maybe Scotty has some coke. I start to head over towards his place when I hear, "Quinn?"_

_I look to my right, and my heart beats faster. "Berry."_

The alarm is going off. It's already 6:30am. Goddamn these scheduled wake ups. I hit the off button just as a nurse pops in to say, "rise and shine, Quinn" and pops right back out. I groan as I sit up and stretch. Six more months of this waking up early crap. Six more months. I start to get myself ready for the day. It's Thursday, which means I meet with Dr. Hernandez. He's an okay dude, in his mid-forties, with a wife and two kids. He thought that by sharing about his life I would too. His logic was flawed. He did all the talking, and of course I didn't. I like that he didn't seem too peeved about my hesitance to speak, like Doc did. Oh, and the fact that he wasn't mad about the nickname, H, was a plus. Maybe he'll get something outta me before she does.

I'm wearing my faded skinny's, with my red tank-top, and red chucks. I decide to put my hair up. It's still short so I can't get it all to stay. I hate that they won't me dye my hair. They think I'll try to poison myself with it. Fuckers. After another glance in the mirror, I head to the washroom with my toiletries. Three doors down, and I'm there. The washroom is empty for the most part, so I get straight to scrubbing at my teeth. A girl walks in wrapped around a towel and with some sandals. "Sup, Quinn," she says as she heads to the showers. I only nod, since my mouth is full of toothpaste. She's from group. I think her name is…. Addison? I don't know, nor do I care. I finish up, and leave without a goodbye. There's not elevators here, so the stairs I must take. It's not bad. Just three flights! Thank god for all those years of cheerleading. I can smell the food as soon as I get to the dining room. Holton isn't too shabby. It's got a modern feel due to the white wooden floors, pale blue walls, high ceilings, and tall black framed glass windows. I heard those windows are bullet proof for some reason.

"Morning' kiddo. What will you be having?" Margo is a nice lady well in her 60's. She reminds me of my Nana. I could never be mean to her.

"Morning, Margo. Could I have two cakes, and four pieces of bacon please? Oh and some OJ too, please."

"Coming' right up, honey pie." Such a sweetheart.

She hands me my tray of deliciousness, "thank you," and I turn to find myself a table. I make my way to an empty one by the windows. As I sit down, from the corner of my eye I see Doc walking towards me. Great.

"Good morning, Quinn. I hope you had a good nights' rest. I want to discuss something with you." She takes my silence as a welcome, and seats herself across from me. She looks the same as usual, red hair tied up in a bun, dark blue tee, khaki pants, white running shoes, and white lab coat.

"What can I do for ya, Doc," I ask with a mouth full of pancake. Again, she frowns at the nickname.

"Please call me Anya. Anyways, I wanted to talk to you about your last session with David. He told me that you didn't say… well anything. I'm going to be honest with you, Quinn. You need to start talking to David and I. We're here to help you. You're here to help you. Progress can't be made if you don't cooperate."

After finishing my chew I say, "I understand your concern, Doc, but what H and I discuss is none of your business. I do want to get better but…." But what, Quinn? "But talking… even thinking about the past is a huge trigger for me." I take another bite of my bacon. "Just… give me some time, okay?"

She smiles, stands, says "okay, Quinn. Don't take too long though," and leaves towards the lobby. Don't take too long? You make me wanna take my slow, sweet time now.

Thankfully I finish my breakfast with no more disturbances. I head back to my room because I've got a couple of hours to kill before therapy. Three doors away from my room and I hear, 'There's a time for us Some day a time for us Time together With time to spare'. I stop walking. That sounds like…. "Rachel?" No way. That must be a CD or something. There's no way she, of all people, would be here. I shake off the thought, and continue walking.

I throw myself onto the bed and stare at the ceiling. Twice. I thought of Rachel twice. Wait, does this make it three? I groan, roll onto my side, and face the wall. I haven't thought of her since…I don't even know when. _"Who is Rachel, Quinn?"_ Who is Rachel?

Rachel is the girl that Russell forbid me to see when we were kids. Rachel is the girl I had funny feelings for at the age of 10. Rachel is the girl who made my heart stop on the first day of high school. Rachel is the girl I drew pornographic pictures of on the bathroom walls. Rachel is the girl I called mean names, and had slushies thrown in her face. Rachel….she's the one that thinks I'm pretty. She's the one that thinks gardenias match the color of my eyes. She's the only one who truly wanted my friendship. She said she was singing to Finn, and only Finn. She never belonged in Lima, and she never belonged with him. And she also never belonged to me.

Well I at least I know what Dr. H and I will be discussing about today.

* * *

Songs: 'Welcome to the Jungle' by Guns and Roses

'Somewhere' from West Side Story

Thank you for reading!


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: I own nothing. Characters belong to the one and only Ryan Murphy.

**Trigger Warning**: There is talk of suicide in this chapter.

Looking through the waiting area window, obviously waiting for my therapy session, I can't help but think back to what occurred during my first session.

_Dr. Hernandez reclines in his chair, hands folded on his lap, and looks at me carefully. I can't tell if he's waiting for me to say something or if he's thinking. Hopefully it's the latter of the two. "Do you know why you're here?"_

_"No, not really, Doctor. I can understand why my friends and family would be concerned about my mental state, but I can assure you, Doctor, that I am perfectly fine."_

_Elbows on his knees, he leans forward and says, "Rachel…. You tried to kill yourself. You-"_

_"I did no such thing, Dr. Hernandez. I was cooking dinner a-and the knife simply…slipped out of my hand. This is all just a huge misunderstanding, so if you would so kindly call my fathers to come and get me, we can all forget about this little mishap." What is he writing on his notepad? Stop that._

_"Rachel," he says with a sigh. Don't sigh like that! Now is not the time for sighing, now is the time for me to leave! "You did try to commit suicide. You weren't cooking, you had a mental breakdown. The knife didn't slip from your hand, you purposefully cut your wrist."_

_What? No, I didn't. I would never do such a thing._

_"Yes you did, Rachel." I said that out loud?_

_"Well I-I didn't mean-I just... Now what? Am I going to be put in a mental hospital? Is that what this place is," I ask. I can't believe I tried to kill myself. At least I know why I have gauze wrapped around my left wrist. Holding my wrist to my chest I ask, "wh-why did I do this?" Don't you dare cry Rachel Berry, keep it together._

_With a hand on my shoulder, and a sad smile, he holds my gaze and says, "That's what we're going to figure out, Rachel."_

It's my first week here at Holton Rehabilitation, and…it's interesting. I think Orange County has to be the most peaceful city in the U.S. though. I love it here. Well, not Holton, but California. It's so beautiful here, what with the thousands of palm trees, the clear blue sky, and the Pacific Ocean right there! Who wouldn't love it here? But my heart belongs to the Big Apple. I miss my city. I won't be back until December. That's six months away! I just want to go home. Maybe I can get out early for good behavior. Good behavior. This isn't a prison, Rachel, geez. Well it feels like it.

"Rachel," I look up to find Dr. Hernandez looking at me with a smile, "you ready?"

* * *

Holton requires its patients to keep a journal about their time here, like a diary. I've turned my journal into a sketchbook. There's nothing wrong with the idea of journal keeping, but I've already done that shit. I've kept several journals throughout my 25 years of life. From being filled with names of crushes and bad school days, to being filled with calorie intake. I _don't_ need another journal.

I had another session with Dr. H. today. We talked about my dream… and Rachel. He told me not think too much of the dream, and to let go of the past. I guess he has a point, I mean… he is the doctor after all. He also said that Rachel sounded like a lovely girl. I told him he was wrong. She's more than lovely. She's _wonderful_. H, and I probably talked about her for a good half hour.

_"She seems to be of great importance to you, Quinn. We're the two of you good friends?"_

_With a chuckle I tell him, "kind of."_

_"Kind of? How can two people be 'kind of' friends? I mean, the way you speak of her, you make it seem as though you possibly had romantic feelings for her."_

_Oh dammit, Quinn. You can't keep your big gay mouth shut can you? "Like I said, H, we were kind of friends. We had-have a lot of history together."_

_He sits back in his chair, with a half-smile. "Care to share, Quinn? Maybe this history you have with Rachel could somehow be connected to your addiction."Uh oh. You just crossed the line, buddy._

_"Rachel has nothing to do with my love for cocaine," I stand up abruptly, fists clenched at my sides. "Can we be done now?"_

_"Yes, we're done for the day. It seems I may have gone too far too soon. My apologies," he says with an outstretched arm. I shake his hand, and leave to sulk anywhere but in front of him._

So here I am, soaking up the sun in the garden, and drawing to my heart's content. I thought a nap and some fresh air would help clear my head after my session with Dr. H. It wasn't terrible, it was just painful. Talking about Rachel isn't painful, I could talk about her all day; it's our history, that's the painful part. There will always be a part of me that will never truly forgive myself for the things I've done to her. I was a monster… I still am. Oh my god, what happened to the sun? I look up to see… oh great, it's...Addison? "You're in my light. Could you, ya know, move?"

"I need your help," she tells me with a blank expression. What?

"I'm not in the mood. Leave me alone." I look back to my sketch. She better go before I get up and help her move.

"No. I need your help. You're the only one who can help me." And apparently my legs are a chair for her.

Sunglasses off, glaring at her, "I said, I'm not in the mood. Now _get off of me_ and leave." She's glaring right back at me. God, she reminds me of Santana. They couldn't look anymore different though. Addison is petite, has naturally curly red hair, pale skin, blue eyes, and she is just covered in freckles. She's kind of cute.

Arms crossed, chin up, she says she'll leave me alone if I help her. Total bullshit. But I tell her fine in hopes that she'll keep her word. She drags me to her room, which is four doors away from mine, and points at the door. "You brought me up here to show me your _door_," I say more than question. It's been less than five minutes and the girl has already managed to irritate the hell outta me.

"It's locked, and I don't have my key." The fuck I look like? A janitor or something?

"Well where is it," I ask with an exasperated sigh. "Why didn't you get the spare from the dude at the front desk? You _don't_ need me."

"I heard you could pick locks, and thought you could help me out, shitface." Oh. Well then.

"You heard right." I kneel down, and pull a bobby pin out from my hair. I haven't done this in years. The last lock I picked was to Russell's safe. I was back in Lima for Thanksgiving break, and ended up owing money to some people. He wouldn't lend me the money, so I had to get it myself. It wasn't that tough of a lock. And neither is this one. This one's a piece of cake. A few twists and turns and, "bam," I stand up, and brush off the "dirt" on my knees. "You're welcome."

"Wow. Thanks, Quinn," she says patting me on the back. Gurl, you best get your hands off of me. God, I just sounded like Satan. Addison faces me with a devious smile, and proceeds to shut the door on my face. Seriously? Whatever, I'm getting cheese fries.

* * *

_"At Holton, there is a requirement that all patients keep a journal of their time here. So here is yours," I take the journal from his hands. It's way too plain for my taste. Hopefully I can find something to decorate it with. Maybe they have a crafts room stocked with bedazzlers. "You may fill the journal with anything, but you must have at least one entry a day. Dr. Anya Davis will skim through your journal after each group meeting to see if there is an entry. You may also drop the book off in my office, if you ever wish for me to take a look at it. Okay?"_

_"Okay, Doctor."_

After talking with Dr. Hernandez, I head back to my prison cell-I mean…room, and decide to write in my first journal entry.

Journal Entry #1:

Therapy with Dr. Hernandez wasn't too bad. We'll have to meet twice a week for the time I am here, which seems ridiculous. It is ridiculous that I'm even here. I don't need therapy, and I don't need help. I didn't mean to hurt myself.. it was an accident. But I guess it doesn't look that way to others. Especially to dad and daddy. They brought me to Holton after my stay at the hospital. According to Dr. Hernandez, Kurt found me on the kitchen floor unconscious and covered in blood. He tried to wake me, but I didn't respond. Wrapping my wrist in a dish towel, he called 911, then my fathers. The doctors at the hospital said I had lost a lot of blood, and that I was lucky to be alive. I didn't feel lucky. I don't feel lucky. Moving on now. Dr. Hernandez also told me some rules that are enforced at Holton: visitor privilege depends upon progress made, phone calls and letters are screened, check-ups are every 30 minutes, and romantic relations with other patients is strictly prohibited. Basically, I get no privacy, or contact from the outside world for six months. Oh dear Barbra. How am I going to survive this?

-R. Berry


	4. Chapter 4

Disclaimer: I own nothing. Characters belong to the one and only Ryan Murphy.

* * *

_**~It's mid-September so it's not too chilly out for it being eight at night. I can't believe the Skanks brought Rachel up. Those bitches. I need something to take these feelings away. Maybe Scotty has some coke. I start to head over towards his place when I hear, "Quinn?"**_

_**I look to my right, and my heart beats faster. "Berry."~**_

"_What are you doing out so late, Quinn," she asks. Her hair's pulled back into a ponytail, she's wearing a pink form-fitting sweatshirt, black capris, and pink and white nikes. Adorable._

"_I could ask you the same." Of all people to run into, it had to be Rachel. Sweet, Rachel._

"_I'm on my nightly run. I used to run in the mornings but I thought since I'm moving to New York I might as well try to get used to dangerous settings, that way I am well prepared. I chose to run in this neighborhood since mine isn't very scary. So why are you out here?"_

_My phone chimes. It's a text from Scotty. Fuck._

_**Scotty: Hurry ur ass up if u want ur guds**_

_**Quinn: Calm your tits, I'm on my way.**_

_**Scotty: K**_

"_Quinn?" Oh, right. Berry._

"_Sorry, Rach. I'm heading over to a friends. You should probably get home before the creeps get out." She's smiling for some reason. Did I not just warn her about creeps?_

"_Oh no worries, Quinn. That's why I'm running out here, remember? To prepare myself. But I must ask, are you okay? Your eyes are very red," she says with worry. My eyes are red? OH yeah, I'm drunk._

"_I'm okay, Rach. I have a couple of drinks earlier. The fresh air is helping me sober up though." She doesn't look convinced._

"_I'm going to walk you to your friend's house. I need to see that you get there unharmed, Quinn," she tells me._

"_No, Rach. I'll be okay really. His place is only a couple of blocks away from here," I really don't want her to walk with me. It's bad enough that she's seen me drunk. She doesn't need to see this part of me. This part of my life._

_She hooks her arm with mine. "Quinn Fabray. I will not let a friend walk alone at this time of hour, especially in the state you are in. Please let me walk you over there. I'll feel better knowing you're not alone." Gosh, Rachel. Why must you have to be so goddamn perfect._

**"**_Okay, but you can't come inside the house. You leave as soon as we're in front, you understand?" Rachel can't meet Scotty. She just can't._

_With a smile she says she understands. Hooking her arm with mine she says, "lead the way."_

* * *

There goes that precious alarm again. And cue nurse.

"Rise and shine, Quinn! Don't forget about the big announcement today at noon. Don't be late!" Announcement. Right. They honestly should've done this when we all first arrived, not three weeks later when we're all settled. Idiots.

I get out of bed and decide to go with my black converse, ripped skinnies, and a simple white tee. As I brushing my hair I can't help but notice the pink is fading even more. Fuck. Maybe H can convince the top guys that I'm not insane, and that I'm perfectly capable of handling hair dye. Suicide is not my way out. I'll ask him during session today though. But first I must suffer through group with Doc. Ugh. Three doors down and I'm in the washroom, brushing my pearly whites.

"Hey, Quinn," Addison says as she walks past me and into a bathroom stall. She's in the same as group as me, so I'm sure she'll entertain me. We've actually become friends over the past week. She's still annoying as hell but she's a pretty cool chick. I'd like to think that if we weren't at Holton we'd date. HA! Yeah right. But in they should change that stupid rule about no romantic relations with other patients. It should be no sexual relations instead, because seriously who's dumb enough to fall in love with someone in a place like this?

By the time I get to the cafeteria it's 6:50 most of the food is already gone and cold. Breakfast service starts at 6:15, so if food is scarce by the time I get to it that means other patients are waking up earlier than I am. Crazies. Maybe Margo can make something fresh for me.

Right as I got to the counter Margo jumped right on me, "you missed out on all the good food, Darlin'. Where were you this mornin'?"

"Mornings are hard for me, Margo. I still can't believe I'm awake right now," I say with a chuckle.

"Same here, Darlin'. Well since you're my favorite person here, what would ya like?" She's so good to me. After telling her my order she says she'll bring it to me when it's ready. I thank her and take my regular seat by the windows. As I wait for my food, Doc walks into the cafeteria, spots me, and walks right on over. Yay.

"Good morning, Quinn! It's great to see you! I hope you had a good nights rest? I didn't, I was up all night thinking about today's big announcement. Oh, and group today. I love our group sessions."

"Yeah, group should be interesting as always. But Doc, think you can tell me what this big announcement is about? I'd like to know what I'm getting myself into beforehand."

"Please call me Anya, Quinn," she says I should call her by her first name…..Nah. "And as for the big announcement...you'll just have to wait and see."

* * *

"But Dr. Hernandez, I need to know. I need to be ready," I exclaim. No one will tell me about the big announcement. I had already asked most of the staff. And none of them would tell me!

Patting my knee he says with a smile, "Rachel, you will find out soon enough." I guess he's right. But I need to know! He sits back, folds his arms, crosses his legs and says, "I'd like to get started now. I want to learn about your life today. You can start anywhere like your childhood, middle school, high school, or even life in New York. Anything goes," he says with a smile.

Looking down at my folded hands on my lap I tell him, "none of those are easy subjects, David….I guess we could start with….my childhood. That might the easiest…. I don't know where to start." I feel so pathetic right now. He must think I am too.

"Tell me about your fathers, Hiram and Leroy?"

Hearing their names lifts my spirits up just a bit. "Yes, those are their names. Dad is Leroy, and Daddy is Hiram. I love them so much," I say with a smile. Oh how I miss them so. "They adopted me when I was a baby. They had a surrogate, and to this very day I still don't know which is my biological father. As if that really matters though, they're both my fathers. Always will be."

"Please do continue, Rachel," he says. So I continue. I continue to tell Dr. Hernandez about Dad teaching me to swim, and Daddy singing songs from musicals with me. I continue to tell him about the time Daddy almost burn our veggie burgers because Dad was out of town, and then when Dad came home the next day he had to teach Daddy how to order pizza. I tell him about the singing, dancing, and ballet competitions, and how my fathers were always there to be my number one supporters.

"They're the best dads I know. If I could I would talk about them all day," I finish with a smile. Anyone would be lucky to have them.

"They sound like great parents, Rachel," he says with an honest smile. He leans forward though, looks me in the eye and says, "I must ask though, how was it growing up with same-sex parents in a small town such as Lima?" I thought todays session would stay light. I thought wrong.

"Growing up in Lima was...tough. My fathers were harassed when they first moved there, and then when they had me. They told me the house would get egged, 'faggot' would be written on the garage door, they would receive life-threatening letters constantly… Dad was so angry, and scared that we would be physically assaulted one day... He wanted us to move, leave Lima before things got worse. Daddy calmed him down, told him to give it a few more years." I take a shaky breath and look towards the ceiling, begging the tears not to fall. David hands me some tissues, and I thank him with a small smile.

"I'm sorry those things happened to you and your family. I could only imagine what it felt like in those situations," he says. I can tell he's genuinely means what he says.

"We're done for the day," he tells me. I stand as he tells me our next session will be at the same time on Thursday. We shake hands, I head to my room, and let the tears fall.

* * *

I finish my sketch just in time for group. There's yoga mats rolled out on the floor. Oh no.

"Hey everyone! We're meditating today, so pick a mat and let's get started," she exclaims. This is gonna be something else.

After about an hour of meditation, Doc stands in the middle of the circle and says, "great job everyone. I think we'll do this every other meetup. I'd like for you all to hand me your journals so I can scan through them, and partner up for our next exercise. You will talk more about your proudest moment in life. If I see that you are not doing so, group time will be extended." Looks like I'm talking about Beth today, there's no way in hell I'm staying in group longer than I'm required. I was gonna pair up with Addison, but as soon as start walking towards her, Doc has something to add.

"I want you to pair with someone you have yet to talk to." Are you effing kidding me? Addison seems unphased, and goes off to find another partner. I do the same. I look around, and I see a guy standing by himself. He notices me too, flashes me a smile, and walks towards me. He's a bit taller than me, has blonde hair similar to mine, unnaturally huge pink lips, and once he's front of me I can see that his eyes are green.

"Hi," he says with a small wave. "My name's Sam."


End file.
